


You kill my Mind

by Allegra_Soleil



Series: Tumblr requests and imagines [11]
Category: Spider-Man (Tom Holland Movies)
Genre: F/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Rough Sex, Suit Kink, can't believe that's not a tag, fighting to fucking, slight size kink
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-04
Updated: 2019-10-04
Packaged: 2020-11-23 12:33:32
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,293
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20892179
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Allegra_Soleil/pseuds/Allegra_Soleil
Summary: After the events on the bus, Peter finds the Reader a couple weeks later.But she's not going down so easily...





	You kill my Mind

“We don’t have to do this! SHIELD has an offer for you!” Peter dodge another one of your kicks, easily ducking out of the way at the last second, “Fury says they haven’t seen someone as good you since Black Widow”

“Where is he, by the way?” You asked nonchalantly, spinning around and lowering your self in a sweeping kick aimed at his feet, “On the rooftop, with a strike team? Do they have snipers on the neighboring buildings pointed at us as we speak?”

Peter flipped back, landing cleanly in front of you. You were in the unfurnished space that was supposed to be the living room of your dingy apartment, facing a fully suited Spider-Man on an official mission for SHIELD. Fierce. Determined.

… And obviously pulling his punches.

“Nobody else’s here” He took a step towards you, “Just you and me”

You rolled your eyes,

“If that’s true, Parker, then you are even more stupid than I thought”

“I mean it, Ruby” He caught your fist, using it to get a hold of your wrist, “SHIELD only wants to help you!”

“You realize that’s not my real name”

“And what is it? ‘The crimson curse’, 'The girl in red’?” He questioned, “Because you still won’t tell me who you are!”

Was that what they were calling you? To your embarrassment, that managed to distract you for a second, allowing Peter to take hold of your other wrist with the same hand, yanking you towards him.

“Take Fury’s offer, please”_ Please, come with me._

“Let me guess, they could use my talents and are willing to forget my past crimes if I join them?” You looked Peter straight in the eyes through his mask, “They made the same offer to my mother. She said yes, now she’s dead”

Peter took off his mask with his free hand, revealing his handsome face, big brown eyes filled with sympathy. You hated that pretty face of his, hated the things it made you feel.

“I’m sorry” He said, and he you knew he really meant it.

“Me too” You replied, taking advantage of his loosened hold to pivot yourself up in the air, wrapping your legs around his head and using your own weight to twirl him around, slamming him on the floor. You stood and made it a few steps towards the door before one of your feet got snatched out from underneath you by a strand of webbing.

Peter was on you in a second, pinning your wrists against your back with one of his hands and your body to the floor with his, but you threw your head back, butting him in the face. He groaned over the sound of his nose cracking, and you were able to shove him off you, shooting yourself through the small hallway on the direction of your room. Before you made it far, though, he was up again shooting another web at you, this one catching you in the back of your -red- party dress. You slipped out of it, breaking free, and swung yourself around jumping onto Peter’s shoulders, wrapping your legs around his face again, only this time to loop the cord of your earbuds around his neck and pull. He threw himself back, smashing you against the wall and you both fell in a tangle to the ground.

You were used to facing opponents that were stronger and bigger than yourself, that wasn’t the problem. No, the problem was that, usually, they were bigger but slower, and Peter wasn’t. You had always knew you wouldn’t be able to beat him on a hand to hand combat, that was the reason you had went to such lengths to seduce him in the first place. And now there, on the floor, arms and legs immobilized by his stronger ones, pony tail held fast in one of his hands to restrict even the movement of your head, you realized you were running out of options.

You took stock of the situation, and recognize there were two places you still could reach with the only weapon you had left.

“Ouch, what are you, five?” Came his indignant cry as you bit down hard on his forearm. If it wasn’t for his suit, you were sure you would have drew blood. He retaliated by childishly pulling your hair, and you had to swallow the whimper that wanted to escape your throat, you were not going to get turned on by Peter Parker. Obviously, biting hadn’t worked, that left only one last move to try…

So you kissed him.

Peter kissed back, as you knew he would. Fiercely, hungrily, no tenderness, no build up, devouring the little sighs and moans that escaped your throat unbidden. However, instead of relaxing into the kiss as you were expecting, you felt his grip on you tighten, as he took both of your wrists and pinned them up above your head. The telltale hiss of his web shooter let you know he had webbed you to the floor even before the wet, sticky feeling around your hands did, and you knew your little scape plan had failed.

So why were you still kissing him?

Peter released your lips, breathing hard, and rested his forehead against yours, brown eyes boring into you.

“Is this a trick?”

You scoffed,

“Of course it is”

Because it was, that much was clear. You just weren’t sure who were you trying to trick anymore: Him or yourself.

And he seemed to be aware of it.

“I don’t believe you” He declared, before diving in again, distracting you with his searing tongue against yours just enough to separate your knees with one of his own, thigh rubbing against your core. One of your legs was now free to kick him off you, but the thought didn’t even crossed your mind as you brought it up to wrap around his hips instead.

Peter knew he shouldn’t, you were a criminal, you had killed people, you were dangerous. He should just find you something to cover up and call the team in…

But for weeks you had been all he could think about, and you were finally there, under him and naked except for your underwear, and he _just couldn’t stop_. 

All he needed was a little taste. All he needed was to feel you, just for a minute. And then he would call the team.

He ripped your bra off your body as if it were made of paper, mouth leaving yours to suck bruises down your neck, and your breasts, thigh rocking harder against your core, the coarse fabric of his suit scratching the inside of your thighs only adding to the sensations. You wanted more.

“Peter” You were proud of how steady your voice came out, “take off my panties”

He was on his knees in a second, making quick work of your panties and pressing the spider on the center of his chest, letting his suit hang loose around his body.

“What are you doing?”

Peter froze, you didn’t sound pleased.

“Getting naked” It came out more like a question. You shook your head,

“Leave it on, I wanna ride your thigh through it and make a mess”

Peter almost came right there. He pressed the spider again, with trembling fingers and positioned himself between your legs. But instead of his thigh, it was his hard length what you felt pushing against your soaked pussy.

“That’s cheating”

He knew. For some reason, disobeying you made him feel ashamed and guilty. He hated disappointing you. But he was just so desperately hard, he would cry if he didn’t get some friction.

He drowned your protest with his lips, moving his hips against yours, cock pressing on your clit just right through the fabric.

“Sorry, I’m so sorry” He breathed against your ear when he broke the kiss, “I’m still your good boy, I promise, I’ll do anything… just let me have this”

Fuck, he was perfect.

“Is that so?”

He panted his affirmation, grinding harder, pushing, pulling, rubbing you just right. You were starting to breath hard too.

“It’s ok, I’ll show you how to be good for me… that what you want baby boy?”

He nodded against your neck.

“Then make it up to me” You commanded, “touch me”

He obeyed immediately, full of relief, right hand sliding down your body, making sure to caress your breasts, trying unsuccessfully to pass it as a casual, natural detour on the way, lower and lower until his fingers found your slit and dived in. You started rocking your pelvis, riding his hand. He looked down between your bodies, letting out a groan. It had to be the hottest, filthiest thing he had ever seen: his fingers, still covered in red and blue, disappearing inside you over and over again. He would never be able to wear his suit again without getting a hard on.

“Bend you fingers a little on the way out… Ah! Right there!” pride washed over him at the loud moan you couldn’t bite back when he got it right. Soon enough, he felt your walls flutter around his fingers and couldn’t help but whine, remembering how good that had felt around his cock the last time.

“Please, please, please…” He didn’t realize he had been begging out loud until you answered,

“Please what? Tell me what you need, spidey…”

“I wanna fuck you”

“But you are,” You pointed out, “You’re fucking me with your fingers…”

He let out another frustrated noise.

“You need to be more specific,” you instructed, “I’ll give you anything you want, Peter” you were scared of how true that was, “but you need to learn to ask for it”

He leaned back to meet your eyes, face as red as his suit but voice steady,

“I wanna fuck you with my cock. I want to bury my hard cock between your legs and fuck you till you can’t walk” _Till you can’t walk away from me anymore._

All embarrassment vanished from his mind when he saw the lust in your eyes at his words. It was unquestionable, you wanted him as much as he wanted you. Emboldened by the realization, he stood up, towering over you_._

“Look at the mess we made” He said, palming himself over the suit, pressing the wet spot against his skin, moaning at the feeling “We ruined my suit!”

“We?”

“Yes, we” He confirmed, “I’m leaking for you”

You groaned, instinctively tugging at your restraints, even though you knew it was useless. He pressed the spider, and his suit fell, pooling around his feet.

Fuck. You knew he was fit, that suit of his left very little to the imagination. But _your_ imagination had evidently failed to do him justice. You felt your mouth water and renewed your efforts to free your hands, you had to touch him. You needed to.

Peter crawled over your body, positioning himself at your entrance. Keeping his word, he buried himself inside you in one go, making you cry out.

“So good…” He sobed, overwhelmed by the felling of your heath, searing hot around his cock, “as good as I remember…”

Like with his kiss, there was no warm up as he started fucking you hard, pounding into you as mercilessly as you had rode him the first time.

Still, you met him thrust by thrust, rising your hips to meet his, and he smiled: Even tied up and under him, you were never going to be submissive.

“Peter… untie me” You managed to get out between moans.

Peter shook his head,

“I can’t, you know I can’t…” It killed him to deny you, but he did. “I’m sorry”

“You’ll pay for this” You promised breathlessly, “Remember what happens to bad boys…”

He remembered, oh God he remembered everything about that bus ride perfectly clear. Including what you had said before you had started your little game,_ ‘Good boys get rewarded, bad boys get punished’._

“I know” He replied, “You can punish me next time”

You’d never admit it, but your heart did fluttered a little at the mention of a next time.

Maybe if he could please you enough you would forgive him. Maybe if he made you come hard enough, you would forget about his disobedience, about escaping, about your own name. About everything except him, and the pleasure he gave you.

He braced himself on one hand and wrapped his other arm around your waist, lifting you slightly from the floor. You adjusted your legs around his hips as he increased the speed and force of his thrusts. You were sure you would have bruises on the insides of your thighs from his hipbones colliding with them. But with his new angle, hitting all the right places, you couldn’t find it in yourself to care.

He was staring down again, you hadn’t let him look back at the bus, and now he was taking his fill, admiring the way his cock seemed to spear you open. He almost couldn’t believe it, how your tight little pussy could take him all the way, without tearing you in two. But by the sounds you were making, if he was hurting you, you were enjoying it. He never knew it could be like that, that he could be like that, so wild and animalistic, so brutal. But he couldn’t slow down, couldn’t stop even if he wanted to. 

He took one of your legs, placing it over his shoulder, finding a deeper angle, shoving his hips in harder, faster and fuck, _fuck!_ He needed your pussy to do that again, to tighten around his cock again, _fuck_, you squeezed him so good, always squeeze him _so fucking good_. And there was no higher reasoning, just this one primal thought, this instinct that told him that he needed to make you come again, to own you, to mark you from the inside, to ruin you, to make you his. He felt you come again, the little after shocks of your first orgasm growing and growing, building up into a second climax, but he still didn’t stop. He knew you were hyper sensitized, your glazed look of pleasure changing into a little frown of discomfort, but still he didn’t stop his onslaught. You had to come again, you needed to come and _you needed his come_ and he was so fucking close. You were crying now, the pleasure-pain too overwhelming, and he leaned in to lick your tears. 

Through blurry eyes, you saw his frenzied face and understood: he was overchraged, overstimulated, his senses dialed up to eleven. He needed something to focus on, something to ground him. You needed to do something to pull him through.

You crushed your lips to his. No tongue, no movement, just the pressure of your lips on his, steady, unyielding. You closed your eyes and he imitated you instinctively, mirroring you subconsciously as you knew he would. You felt his hips stutter, giving a few last, uncoordinated thrusts, pushing into you as far as he would go, pubic bone smashing your clit before stilling completely, the little contractions of his cock releasing his load inside you unleashing one last, earth-shattering climax.

He collapsed on top of you, breathless, heart hammering inside his chest. Or maybe that was your heart, you weren’t sure where he ended and you started anymore. Too soon, he rolled away from you, and you regretted the loss of his warm weight. Who needed oxygen anyway, you just needed Peter.

It was a few minutes before either of you could speak again, and of course it was Peter the first to break the silence.

“I saw you earlier, at the club” He tried, and failed, to sound casual, nonchalant. He usually wasn’t one for clubs and dancing but he needed something different, something new, needed the adrenaline, something exciting. Anything that could make him feel like the last time you had kissed him. “I followed you here, that’s how I found you. And you are good, you felt me following you, you even stopped a couple times to look behind you… But you still came directly here, no detours, no evasive actions. Why?”

You didn’t answer. You couldn’t, why couldn’t you tell him what you were feeling, what he was making you feel for him?

Your silence didn’t deter him anyway, because he already knew.

“I think I know why: Because you didn’t trust your own mind, you thought it was playing tricks on you…” He could no longer disguise the emotion behind his voice, the one you were too afraid to name, “I know that because I went through the same this last few weeks, always thinking I had just seen your face in the middle of a crowd, always feeling your eyes on me, thinking I had just caught a glimpse of the polka dots dress you were wearing on the bus…”

He turned to face you, reaching out to caress your cheek. You turned your face away from his touch. He let his hand fall and sighed, resigned.

“I think I’m falling in love with you” he whispered. A confession, a prayer.

You closed your eyes, swallowing the knot in your throat, swallowing your fear. Because if this was it, if you were going to jail -because there was no way you were going to work for SHIELD- you wanted him to know,

“I know. I think I’m falling for you, too”

When you opened your eyes again, he was hovering above you, searching your face for something. And he must have found it, because you saw a new determination on his eyes, as he ripped the web trapping you in one go, and pressed something inside his ear, probably his coms, to say,

“Agent Hill? I lost her, she escaped… she tricked me, I’m sorry”

You felt your jaw hit the floor, was he really letting you go? He gave you an urgent look that had you on your feet in an instant, and a minute later, he was back in his spidey suit and you were in a denim jumpsuit, hurriedly slipping your feet inside your sneakers and grabbing your getaway back pack, that you always kept ready with money and a couple passports. You stood before him, knowing you didn’t have much time, neither of you did.

You wordlessly handed him his glasses back. You didn’t need them anymore, anyway, you had the information you needed for the next part of your plan.

It was his turn to look at you slack jawed.

“No, I don’t know which direction she went… does this building has a connection to the sewers or something?” He stopped to listen at whatever whoever was on the other side was saying, “Well, for what it’s worth, I got the glasses back…”

You interrupted him catching his lips in one last bruising kiss, a brief battle for dominance before you bit down harshly, drawing blood. You gave his bottom lip one last lick, letting the coopery flavor wash over your tongue, and stepped back from his stunned face, turning away and running to the window.

“Wait!” He took the little gadget out of his ear and threw it away, shattering it against the wall. A couple steps later he was in front of you again.

“Your name,” He begged, “before you go, please, tell me your real name!”

You opened the window,

“Y/n. My name is y/n”

“Y/n” He tried it out, and you never liked your name more than right then, hearing it from his mouth.

“Don’t wear it out, though” You stole one last look at that infuriatingly handsome face, and jumped out the window.

The end?


End file.
